


how wonderful life is (i hope you don't mind)

by extasiswings



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Introspection, M/M, That Awkward Moment When You Buy A House For Your Boyfriend Without Asking Him To Move In First, The Brooklyn Brownstone Saga, This Was Not What I Planned On Writing Today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: No matter how Henry tries to justify it, the brownstone is an impulse purchase.





	how wonderful life is (i hope you don't mind)

No matter how Henry tries to justify it, the brownstone is an impulse purchase. It’s true; he needs a place to live if he’s going to stay in New York for an extended period of time to get the shelter up and running, but he hardly needs that much space, besides which, he’s had more than enough of extravagant luxury in all his years at Kensington. He could easily just find an apartment, even a nice one, and have that be more than enough. That is, in fact, the original plan. 

But. The real estate agent sends an email with the subject line _Just in case…_ and a listing attached and Henry looks at the pictures and he can just—he can _see_ Alex there, at a desk in what clearly used to be a library, law books spread everywhere, reading glasses on his nose. There’s a common area that looks like it could fit a piano, and a kitchen where he can imagine sleepy morning kisses over cups of their respective caffeinated beverages of choice, and a master bedroom that plenty of couples would probably kill for and Henry just—

He buys it. And doesn’t come out of the haze of picturing absolutely every domestic moment that he wants so badly until he’s finished signing all the papers, at which point he crashes back down to reality because...well. It’s not like he _asked_ , is it? What if Alex doesn’t want to live with him? What if he’s changed his mind and wants to go to Harvard or Yale or stay in D.C. with Georgetown for law school instead of looking at NYU or Columbia? Even if Alex does pick a school in New York, maybe living together would be a terrible idea. After all, Henry’s certainly never lived with a lover before, and they’ve spent so much time shuttling back and forth between countries, snatching moments where they can, rarely for more than a day or so at a time. To go from that to sharing the same space, day after day, for however long...it could easily be a disaster. 

(What if Alex gets tired of him?)

He calls Pez. 

“I’m a bloody idiot,” Henry groans into his hands an hour later, two beers on the coffee table, and Pez looking far more amused at the entire situation than Henry thinks a good friend really ought to be.

“You’re a twenty-three-year-old with far too much money, who also happens to be madly in love. Of course you’re a bloody idiot,” Pez replies, clapping him on the shoulder. “But look, of all the big romantic gestures you could have gone with, this is definitely not the worst. Worst case scenario, he doesn’t want to move in with you, and you still have a lovely piece of real estate that plenty of other people, also with far too much money, would be more than happy to take off your hands. It’s not like you bought an engagement ring...or did you do that, too?”

Henry lifts his head to give his friend a withering stare, deliberately shoving down the warmth in his chest that suggestion elicits. 

“Of course not. I’m not _that_ much of an idiot.”

_Yet_ , his mind whispers unhelpfully. 

“You did just drop over two million pounds on a house you weren’t even considering a week ago because you could see yourself _building a life_ there with your smoking hot boyfriend,” Pez points out. He doesn’t even bother hiding his grin. “I’m just saying, it wasn’t an unreasonable question. But while we’re on the subject—”

“Were we on the subject? Really? Because I think I’d quite like to discuss literally anything else—”

“Do you think Nora and June would both go with me to the wedding, or—?”

Henry throws a pillow at him, but as much as he can feel his cheeks burning, he also can’t bite back the smile threatening to break out. 

“Why am I friends with you again?” He teases.

Pez laughs, bright and loud. “Because I have excellent taste in absolutely everything and also willingly put up with your several _years_ of lovesick pining without judgment?”

“What do you call this, then?”

“Well, you’re not pining anymore,” Pez shrugs. “So I’d say it’s more of a well-deserved, loving roast. You’re giving me loads of material for my best man’s speech, I hope you realize.”

Henry’s cheeks burn hotter, but he’s laughing as he shakes his head. “Just drink your beer.”

“Of course, Your Royal Grumpiness.”

Later, when Henry is stretched out on the couch and Pez is sitting on the floor, the credits of the movie Pez brought with him scrolling on the television screen, Pez tips his head back on the arm of the couch and looks at him.

“I’m really happy for you, you know that, right?” He asks, eyes soft, voice low and serious. “And Alex...look, astronauts in space can see how much he loves you. He’s not gonna say no and it’s not gonna blow up in your face or whatever else you’re worried about. You get to be happy, Henry. Trust that, okay? Trust _him_.”

“I’m—” Henry swallows hard and scrubs a hand over his face. “Christ, I know, I just—”

_I want to spend the rest of my life with him, and that terrifies the fuck out of me._

“—I never thought I’d get to have this,” he finishes on a whisper. It’s nothing Pez hasn’t heard before, but he nods solemnly anyway. 

“But you do,” he replies. “You finally do. And, Henry? It’s a fucking amazing house. He’ll love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

As it turns out, Alex does love it. When he walks through the door for the first time, he freezes in the entryway and looks around slowly. It’s still relatively bare—Henry wanted to fill it with things that felt like them, not just him, and for that he needed Alex there—but the look on Alex’s face makes Henry imagine he’s picturing that, too. What it could be. What it will be.

Henry clears his throat quietly, shifting his weight. “So? What do you think?”

Alex kisses him there, soft and slow and sweet, the natural light from the windows spilling in around them, and that’s all the answer Henry really needs, even before Alex pulls back and murmurs, “I think I really fucking love you.”

Once upon a time, Henry was afraid that a love like this would set him on fire. When he tugs Alex back in for another kiss, he thinks he might not mind the flames.


End file.
